Caring
by JumpersAndKittens
Summary: Set after Dinosaurs On A Spaceship. Rory and the Doctor can't sleep, so the nurse tries to clear the air. No ships, but very, very hinted at Drory


"Doctor?"

The word comes out quieter than he'd intended, more hesitant and caring. Not that he didn't care, but this was probably going to be a caring conversation and the Doctor didn't like them. Rory had learnt from experience that you had to trick the Doctor into talking about his feelings, or it wouldn't work. He was always so reluctant to admit that sometimes he wasn't happy.

"Rory," the Doctor murmured. Leaning in the doorway of the Tardis, he didn't look at Rory, and continued staring out at the stars. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing." Rory went to stand next to him. Folded his arms across his chest. "Why?" His eyes also went the stars, trying futilely to pick out the various constellations the Doctor had spent a whole night showing him a couple of weeks ago. That one might have been the Dipper, but he wasn't sure.

Seeming almost reluctant, the Doctor finally turned to look at Rory. "You're not often up at this time," he commented shortly.

"Yeah, well. Travelling with you is like having permanent jet lag," the fair-haired man said dismissively. "And anyway, nor are you."

The two of them looked at each other briefly, gazes meeting. They both promptly turned back.

"Couldn't sleep," the other said.

There was barely a second's pause before Rory commented, "A lot on your mind, I suppose."

It wasn't quite a statement, or a question. It was in that inbetweeny grey area: a question without a proper answer.

"What makes you say that?"

It was asked almost sharply, and the Doctor looked at the other quickly with barely a turn of the head.

Whoops, he'd caught on to Rory's plan.

"Nothing." He had to think fast, to back-track as best he could, to fix the conversation and steer it in the right direction. "I just mean, what with the dinosaurs and everything. Exciting stuff, you know."

The Doctor visibly relaxed, shoulders lowering and the lines in his face becoming shallower. "Ah, yes. Exciting indeed. Very exciting, awfully exciting."

They lapsed into a slightly uncomfortable silence.

"What about you?" the Doctor asked after a minute or so.

"What about me?"

Again, the Doctor looked at his companion. "Why're you out of bed?"

Rory glanced at him and frowned very slightly. What could he say? /I've been worrying about you/? /Something's wrong and I want to know what it is/?

/It feels wrong sleeping in the same bed as Amy these days/?

"My mind won't shut up." In the end, he goes for the easiest truth. "Keeps... Going on about things I don't want to dwell on."

The Doctor knew he should probably ask what, but to be perfectly honest he didn't want to.

"So I came to see if you were up. And I was right."

There was another pause, in which both men wanted to say something to the other, but couldn't quite get the words to go in the right order so they'd mean what he wanted.

Eventually they both gave up, and after a few minutes, Rory asked, "So... Is Solomon dead?"

This question caught the Doctor completely off guard, and suddenly his mind started to race.

"What?" he asked, looking at Rory, trying to keep the confusion and worry off his face.

Rory gestured vaguely. "You know, Solomon. The old guy with the sassy robots. Is he dead?"

The Doctor nodded stiffly, uneasily. "Yes, why?"

The other man had to consider his answer carefully. He couldn't just come out with it. Dunk the Doctor in at the deep end. It was like dealing with a fish; you allowed the water in the bag to grow accustomed to the temperature before you released it. Well, it was almost time to release.

"Because... Something's wrong."

The fish was out, and it didn't like this tank.

As the Doctor stared at him warily, Rory continued. "I mean, you know, you're the Doctor. You help people, you heal them. You fix them. You're an idealist, you want everybody to come out on top in every situation." Beat. "But you let him die. You could have saved him. But you didn't. So tell me, what's wrong?"

He looked at the Doctor, and green eyes met hazel ones. Neither pair looked in the least bit happy.

Suddenly, the Doctor became animated. He ruffled Rory's hair, and grinned at him. "I'm fine. I'm always fine. Got my Ponds, got my Tardis, what more could a man want?"

It took great effort and dedication for Rory to force himself not to sigh. He'd forced the Doctor into a corner, but he'd given Rory he slip. The fish had abandoned the tank and was flopping around on the floor.

Instead, he forced himself to smile, albeit witheringly. "I suppose," he murmured. "But, uh, if you ever want to talk."

"I won't." Serious Doctor was back, but only momentarily. "Now I don't know about you," He stretched, and faked a yawn. "but I'm knackered. See you in the morning, Rory."

And he scampered off, leaving the nurse alone. He sighed audibly before leaving, crawling back into bed with Amy.

Now, if anything, he felt worse.

* * *

A/N

It's overly dramatic but whatever, I like it.

As always, any criticism would be gratefully received. I hope you liked it, thanks for reading ^^

Rhi (hOnK)


End file.
